


Give Me One Good Reason

by osointricate



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Unbeta'd, general season 5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4753568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osointricate/pseuds/osointricate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny has a problem.  The problem is about six feet tall, has dark hair, and has a hard time keeping his shirt on.  This problem has become a distraction of the highest order.  He just… doesn’t really want to do anything about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me One Good Reason

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a Five Times fic and refused to be that because it wanted to be this instead. I sacrificed sleep because this thing wanted to be written. It’s also my first completed foray into the Hawai’i 5-0 world, and first completed anything in MONTHS. *happily ignores the open Catherine and Melissa story lines while I still write this set post season five* It's also only been edited by me, so, sorry.
> 
> Enjoy!

~~~

> It all started the moment they couldn’t move a damn dumpster.

~~~

“Give me a boost!” Steve said, staring up at the back fence outside back alley of the club.  There were a couple of small dumpsters back here, and a gate leading somewhere that was controlled from the other side.  They couldn’t open it.

“What do you mean ‘give you a boost?’” Danny asked, hands waving.  “That wall is almost fifteen feet tall Steven!  I’m sorry I’m not six feet of tall dark and impulsive like you!”

“Would you stop complaining and find a way out of this?  Please?  They are coming.”  Steve said, trying to push the dumpster.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to block the door.”

“That is not going to work.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Danny really didn’t.

“Just help me, would ya?”

Danny rolled his eyes, but the mob muscle were heading towards them.  They hadn’t been made, but they had ducked back here so they wouldn’t be.  Kono, abuzz in their ears from somewhere safe, had told them they would be soon if they didn’t book it.  So Danny put some elbow grease into whatever crazy plan Rambo Jr had cooked up and pushed against the edge of the giant dumpster.

“Too late,” Kono told them.

The club’s door swung wide open, clanging against the wall, the rambunctious grunts of the goons filled the back alley and Danny and Steve both froze, eyes wide on each other, and ducked flat against the wall between the dumpster and the gate, the dumpster barely tall enough to hide Danny.

He looked over to see Steve steering himself for a fight, stern face, bracing himself, and that was when Danny had a horrible idea.  He started pulling his shirt from his pants and began work on the buttons.  Steve noticed right away and gave him a “what the hell are you doing?” look.  Danny rolled his eyes.

“Open the back gate, would ya?” One of the goons said, with the squawk of a radio.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Came the response.

The alley gate began to slide open and Steve jumped.  They wouldn’t be hidden for long.  Steve looked to him, down at his open, bare chested shirt, and then back up to Danny.  One thing they were good at, was getting on the same page and on the same page quickly.  They locked eyes for only a moment, Danny’s arms open and pulling at Steve, before Steve’s mouth was on him.

No lead up, no hesitation, just immediately into each other, Danny’s hand down the back of Steve’s pants, his other messed up in his hair, Steve’s hands pulling at Danny’s legs.  They needed to act like they had been out here for awhile, that these guys were interrupting them, and not the other way around.  

Oh lord was it messy and hard and too quick, too much, and Danny’s mind didn’t really catch up to the fact that he was kissing his best friend, that maybe this was the best kiss he’d ever had, until Goon Number One shouted at them and Steve pulled back just a fraction as a reaction.

Danny pulled Steve’s face down towards his neck and, like always, Steve was on the same page, mouthing at his jawline in half a second, Danny throwing his best anger face at the goon, a middle finger raised to help sell it.  He was busy licking his lips and trying to give Steve more space to work with, so he’s sure that the ‘anger’ he was going for was more ‘blissed out’ and oops, Danny really couldn’t care because holy hell Steve was selling it.

Goon Number Two laughed and pushed at Goon Number One.  “Want to join them, brah?”

Steve did pull away that time, turning around over his shoulder and said, “I don’t share.”

Danny let out a little whimper at that, and hated himself for it.  Steve turned back around with a shocked little victorious smirk.  Danny licked his lips again, Steve’s eyes were laser focused on his mouth, and it was Danny’s turn to smirk.

Number One sputtered for a moment and headed towards the gate as the rest of his crew laughed and shoved at him.  Danny was trying to remember faces, the make and model of the car that had driven by to pick them up, anything really, other than Steve’s eyes on his face, the soft fingers running through the hair at his temples, and the small embers that had settled at the bottom of his spine.

They kissed again, this time slower, deeper, both of Steve’s hands cupping Danny’s face, and in the back of his mind, Danny knew this was to sell that they were a couple of club goers in the midst of getting lucky, but the way Steve’s hips slid up against his sent fire up his spine.

The gate slid shut, the back alley was empty, and they were breathing heavy, foreheads resting against each other.  Danny desperately wanted Steve to lean in again, kiss him.  Instead he closed his eyes and pulled back, leaving Danny open and wanting between a club dumpster and a gate.

“We can give you guys a few minutes, if you want,” Chin said over coms, Kono let out a small laugh of her own.  Steve rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran his hands through his hair.  

Danny couldn’t move.  Steve’s shirt was rumpled and his face was flushed and no matter how many times he ran his hands through his hair, the back of his hair was still messed up from Danny’s grip and honestly Danny felt so wrecked.

“We should get going,” Danny had finally managed to get out after what was probably too long.  He pushed at Steve, trying to get back into the club.

“Right,” He heard Steve from somewhere behind him.

~~~

> Danny was a bit of a mess after that.

~~~

The gym, the one that Ellie had introduced Steve to, was homey.  Something a bit like what he would have found back in Jersey, and it made Danny like the lawyer a little bit more.  Actually, he was sold on her after Steve had told him how she had helped him when he was arrested.  Not that he’d ever tell Steve that, no.  It was endearing watching him run around trying his hardest to make all his friends friends with each other.  He had a feeling that Ellie had picked up on this too.

A brother in arms to face the insanity that is Steve McGarrett, then.  Good, Danny never could have too many of those.

She had drug him along, sans Steve (because Steve was actually good at making all his friends friends with each other,) one evening for some one on one, and he had fallen in love with the place.  Both Steve and Grace were always getting on to him about exercising more.  He had sent Ellie a nice malasada box the next morning to balance it out.  (She had sent him an email about how she had placed it in the judge’s lounge with a sign that said “From Five-0,” and Danny liked her more.)

Tonight though, tonight he was alone.  Thankful, not for the first time, that this was a twenty four hour gym, and his insomnia was at an all time high thanks to the added stressors he had recently acquired.  Somehow Steve found out where he was and they went half a dozen rounds with a punching bag, Danny trying to tire himself out.

Then they found themselves in the locker room, and Steve had taken his shirt off, and Danny was staring, and Steve caught him and, well.

He would have a bruise on his back from someone’s lock on their locker from where Steve had pushed him up against it.  It was hot and fast, like last time.  Complete with Steve’s teeth scraping along his jaw, and hot breath down his loose t-shirt.  Steve’s hands were both flat against Danny’s stomach, working their way up and Danny was biting his bottom lip, fighting not to make a sound.

Then, of course, the lights went out, and it shocked them so bad that Steve knocked over one of their gym bags, the echo of the gear hitting the concrete floor bounced around them.  As quick as they went out, the lights were back on, one of the attendants calling out a, “sorry, didn’t think anyone was here!”

Steve was busy picking up his gym bag, and Danny was shaking himself back to focusing.

They were silent as they changed and headed out and went home in separate cars.

~~~

> Honestly it was getting a little bit ridiculous, in Danny’s opinion.  

~~~

The elevator down to the interrogation rooms was loud, large, and industrial, usually a bit cold the lower they went... but that space, alone with Steve, was small and quiet and hot.  All Danny could seem to focus on was his breathing, Steve’s hands, his neck…

How he crowded into Steve and Steve smiled and they were on each other again.  How Danny leaned back against the wall, the vibrations of the machine racking into them, Steve pushing his chin up, Danny’s tongue right under the corner of his jaw, Steve’s hand teasing at the top of his belt right at the small of his back.

The sudden jerk that let them know they were at their floor.  How Danny had to walk out of there and into interrogation and pretend like nothing had happened whatsoever.

~~~

> How often, and how much --

~~~

Steve was smirking at him, his little “I’ve already won this argument, but I think it’s cute you’re still trying ™,” grin on his asshole face.  

They had stepped aside to find some privacy at some everyday Five-0 family event, like they do all the damn time, and they were arguing over some bit of sports trivia that Danny had decided to look up on his damn phone to prove the asshole wrong, and here he was staring at Steve’s argument as fact on three separate websites and he still wasn’t about to concede.

Not yet.

He looked up at Steve, angry, and through his eyelashes, and Steve was moving forward, crowding him against the wall, reaching forward and kissing the surrender out of him.  Oh, how he drove Danny mad, with his mouth and his solid jaw under his thumb, and how he never tucks in his shirts, ever.

Then Grace called out for him and he went back to the party in an instant.  He kept wondering where Steve was the rest of the night, even when he had eyes on him.

~~~

> \-- this kept happening.  

~~~

“Don’t you dare,” Danny had warned him.

Steve only took that as a challenge, how the hell hadn’t Danny learned this by now?  So he had approached, paint roller in his hand - sticky and wet with the aqua green Grace had picked out for Charlie’s room - dead set on seeing Danny covered.

Danny armed himself with the extender for the roller, no paint in sight.  “This is an unfair advantage.”

“Tactical prowess,” Steve had countered.

“‘Tactical prowess?’” Danny had repeated, extender raised like a bow staff.  “What a load of bull.”

Steve smiled, lunged forward, and attacked.  

“No!”

He ended up with a wide, aqua stripe up the side of his thigh anyway.  He needed to gain a better weapon, because as much as Steve drove him to homicidal tendencies, he really wasn’t planning on hurting the man.  He made a reckless and sacrificial move to the other side of the room, giving Steve another open swipe down his back, but in doing so, he had ended up within arm’s reach of the paint brushes.  

Danny turned around quick, splatters of the paint flinging into the room, a wet paint brush in each hand.  “Aha!”

Steve’s face fell.

“Oh, you don’t like it when it’s a fair fight, do you?”

They wrestled for a bit after that, paint going everywhere, and then Steve took a dirty advantage of Danny’s bad knee, attacked from the side, and they were on the ground, covered in paint, and Danny had seen this music video before.  Covered in paint and making out surrounded by newspapers and drop cloths.  It was heaven.

He had Steve between his legs and Steve did not disappoint, moving into him in a way he hadn’t since the night in that back alley.  The slow little embers that had lived inside Danny the last few weeks, the one that had flared a little every time Steve lost his shirt, every time they were alone, even sometimes when they werent.  Sometimes Danny could be watching Steve, and he’d look up, and there’d be a nice little warmth somewhere below his spine.  Flared, would give a hopeful little spark, and then would simmer back down, giving off a little smoke.

But now, with Steve on top of him like he was, rolling into his open and welcoming legs, there was a full on fire that Danny feared he’d have no chance of putting out.

Steve’s shirt came off then, and it really just wasn’t fair.  That blank canvas, a paint brush just within reach, and the absolute outrage on Steve’s face as Danny played Jackson Pollock on him with a splatter of green paint.  His shocked face was beautiful in the light in this room.  It made his eyes greener than they really were.

Then, of course, Steve reached for the paint bucket, his hand covered in slop, and the war was back on.

Danny was laughing when Grace came in, fresh from cheerleading day camp, giving them a smug little smirk that neither Danny nor Rachel possessed. 

“Whatcha doin’?” She asked in a sing song voice.

Steve and Danny shared a look for only a moment before they both looked back up to Grace.  She had half a second of wide eyed realization before they were after her with aqua green horror.

Danny had to go buy another gallon that night.

~~~

> Every time he turned around, there was Steve --

~~~

The storm was coming in harder and faster than anyone expected.  Danny was throwing things upstairs, Steve was emptying the lower cabinets, piling up on top of the counters and tables.  Danny threw things in the fridge into an ice chest, and Steve was doing his best to put his dad’s car on a lift.  They thought they had another day to fortify Steve’s house, move him to Danny’s couch for the duration, but the storm shifted and the water rose, and Steve barely got everything outside finally secured before Danny had showed up and threw himself into helping.

The house was raised, but not by all that much, and while it hadn’t happened while Danny had been there, Steve had stories of southern approaching hurricanes that flooded his home that Danny did not doubt.  Steve had been piling sandbags outside the house for days, knowing there was a possibility of flooding, but the inside the house was just… not ready.  They were just sitting the couch on the coffee table, already having moved the other precious furniture up to the landing, when the power went out.  Steve made his way to the window, and whistled.  

“Yep, it’s going flood for sure, this time,” He said sadly.  “The water is already risen to the grass, look!”

Sure enough, the waves were already hitting the far yard landing, where the outside shower was, the one Danny and Steve had spent four weekends building a couple years ago.

“Well, come on, grab your bag, let’s get out of here.  I’ll get the cooler.”

They were out of there and on their way to Danny’s house within five minutes.  His house was much more inland, but everyone on the south side of the island was going inland for the storm.  To hotels, like he knew Rachel, Grace, and Charlie were doing, or to friends like Steve was doing.  The traffic was a bit ridiculous.  No one had expected the storm to move in this quickly, or expected the eye to make land this close to Honolulu.  They were safe for the moment, just stuck still somewhere on the highway.  

Steve had called Danny, stuck a few cars behind him, joking about whether turning on police sirens just to get through this mess would be a misuse of authority.

“Of course it would be, you doofus.”

“Just asking,” Steve said, a fake tone of defensiveness.  “I’m bored.”

“You can’t be alone in your car for twenty minutes?”

“No, I miss you too much.”

Danny swallowed a large lump in his throat.  Suddenly thankful they weren’t sharing a car.  The things Danny wanted to do to that man in a car were a sin against cars everywhere.

“Well, maybe your trouble magnet powers will activate and we’ll catch a case and we can turn on our sirens.”

Twenty minutes later they had made it to Danny’s house, soaking wet, all of Steve’s bags already in the house, and Steve had Danny against the door before Danny could lower his rain coat’s hood.

Steve ripped it open, the velcro and buttons snapping open, and Danny shivered as Steve’s wet hands pulled at Danny’s shirt - (“you still tucking in your shirt is ridiculous, Danno,” Breathy, against his mouth, causing Danny to laugh.  He had a witty response, but wet hands and nipples were, well….) - and Danny had just started picking at Steve’s belt when

When Steve’s trouble magnet powers did activate and he did get a call and they did catch a case and they did get to turn on their sirens to get through the traffic.  Danny had bit his lip and forced himself to be professional and not whine about it one bit.

~~~

> \-- and Steve’s mouth and --

~~~

Steve’s mouth on his neck was way too distracting for it’s own good.  It was just a mouth.  Everyone had one.  Everyone had teeth and a tongue and hot breath.  But for some reason, the combination that Steve had seemed to drive Danny to distracted lengths.

Like right now, in a dressing room of a tailor shop, trying to find the right suit to wear for some press conference banquet thing.  The Governor had stressed dress code and looking good and best behavior because TV cameras and state senators and a couple other important things that Danny was having trouble remembering at the moment because Steve’s mouth was focused on his adam’s apple and there were men just on the other side of a curtain so they couldn’t do much more but holy hell on a stick Steve’s mouth.

~~~

> \-- Steve’s hands --

~~~

They were cleaning the big guns.  One random afternoon, in the room off the HQ’s main room.  The one with the couches and tables that were deemed necessary by Lou and his suggestion “we don’t have a waiting room for witnesses and family members that’s… not one of our offices?” like he was wondering why none of them had thought about it and really, no one could give a reason why they hadn’t thought about it.

Of course, the moment Steve had requisitioned the needed space and furniture, it had turned into a gathering place.  An at work, on duty, gathering place.  Kamekona came by sometimes, bringing lunch when he hadn’t seen them in a day or two, hoping to catch them on a slow day.  Jerry had made it his unofficial office when he was working on a case with them.  Grace had done some homework in there when it was empty, back before summer hit.  Victim’s families would take some time to gather themselves in there, non suspicious witnesses had a safe place to process things, give a statement, describe a perp to a sketch artist.

It was a great idea, thanks Lou, really.  It had come in handy so many times, this room, Danny had no idea how they hadn’t really worked without it, now that they had it.

Of course, a quiet, isolated room, with comfortable couches was not exactly a good place to be alone with Steve.  Cleaning guns.  With nimble fingers and strong wrists.  

Fingers that teased at his belt.  Hands that had been flat against his chest.  Hands that were grasped tight around the barrel of the machine gun, hands that were working hard cleaning the barrel in a swift back and forth motion that Danny really needed to stop watching.

He’d focus on his own gun, systematically taking it apart, and even as a cop Danny never thought he’d handle this sort of weaponry as often as he does.  So often that he’s responsible for cleaning it, keeping track of it’s ammunition, requisitioning parts when needed.  This was his life.  Because of Steve and his obsessive need to just

Ram things inside small, tight… barrels.  Barrels.  Guns had barrels, Daniel.  Really.

The third time he got distracted by Steve’s damn hands, Steve’s hands had paused.  Mid motion, like the universe was allowing Danny the moment to memorize and file the image away for a later date.  Once he had his fingers and palms and wrists committed to long term memory, Danny took his gaze up his arm.  He had gotten to Steve’s elbow when he realized a reason why Steve would have paused.

His eyes flew up to Steve’s.  Steve was smirking again.  Danny huffed, focusing on his gun, refusing to give the man anymore satisfaction for the rest of the day.

(He was distracted quite a few more times, but, ya know.  He’s human.  Because goddamn if there wasn’t anything more distracting than Steve McGarrett’s hands handling a firearm, it was his hands on either side of his face holding him still while his mouth was on Danny’s neck and this couch was never going to be the same for him.

Thanks Lou.)

~~~

> \-- and these little moments --

~~~

Grace had been fretting about a complicated backflip for two weeks now, ever since she had been given the solo in her squad’s competitive routine.  Every waking, free minute she had, she spent out in the yard, throwing herself backwards over and over again, trying to nail the intricacies of the move.  Steve invited her over, his backyard softer and larger for her run, and then after a couple fumbles, he too was motivated for her to land it.  They’d work for hours and then they’d go for a swim and then a run and Danny had dinner ready when they got home.

Goodness, how the sweet little peck on the cheek Grace had given him when he handed her a plate was always his favorite destresser at the end of a long day.  He hoped she’d never grow out of that.  There were moments in his life he craved that little bit adoration from his daughter.

The sweet little peck on the mouth that Steve had given him after that was just as wonderful.

Danny shook himself.  “You both smell like dirt and ocean and sweat.”

“That’s how you know you did something fun,” Grace said, back turned and filling up her plate with vegetables.  Vegetables!

“You!” Danny pointed at Steve.  Steve held up his hands in mock surprise and surrender.  “You are too strong an influence on my daughter.  We need to talk about this.”

Steve only smiled and he and Grace shared a conspiratorial look that Danny knew he wasn’t going to survive.

~~~

> \-- of pure and absolute bliss --

~~~

“Yeah!” Danny cheered, hands up as Grace landed her backflip.  Steve was standing up and Danny knew they were being the annoying parents that everyone hates, but he could not care less.  They sat down after the moment was over, Steve’s arm around Danny, shaking him with excitement.

Danny looked to him.  “Thank you.”

Steve’s smile fell soft.

“It’s Grace,” He said with a shrug.  Like it was both the simplest and most important reason in the world.  Danny could relate.  He leaned forward, kissing him, a light, sweet peck, again.  No fire licking at his insides, but a move that made him feel just as warm.  If not warmer.

The crowd cheered again, and they both turned their attention back to the performers.

~~~

> \-- moments he just couldn’t stop fantasizing about.

~~~

“You reckless, irresponsible, James Bond wanna be!  One of these days, I am going to let the worst happen to you and then you’ll be dead!  How would you feel about that, huh?”  He was climbing out of the ocean, suspect in hand, and looking like he had just won the lottery, the damn adrenaline junkie.

That adrenaline junkie was going to give Danny a heart attack one of these days.

“I wouldn’t be dead, Danno,” Steve answered him, soaking wet and smirking, handing the killer off to another officer.  “Not if you’re there.”

Danny rolled his eyes and pushed him back over the edge of the pier, and was momentarily rewarded with a satisfying splash.  Then everything boiled over again when Steve came up with a huge smile and a loud laugh. God his smile was gorgeous.  He waved his hand at Steve, moving to leave.

“Danny!  Danny!  Wait!”  Steve called out, and Danny turned patiently. The man had swam up to the edge of the dock and was holding out his hand.  “Help me out?”

“Oh, uh-uh, I know this move,” Danny said with confidence, ignoring Steve’s hand, knowing the game.  “I am a master of this move.  My sisters and many summers on the coast can attest to this.”

“Come on, Danny, I’m tired!”

“You’re a SEAL.”

“So?”  Steve asked.  “What’s that have to do- I just chased a murderer for four miles through obstacles and then I dragged him out of the water!  Danny.  I’m tired!”  Steve whined.

“You’re telling me you’re giving up?” Danny took a few steps closer, his eyes narrowed, but he was still safe.

“No,” Steve said.  Then his face turned serious, for half a beat - not enough time for Danny to react, before he was out of the water like he was some kind of mutant dolphin, and honestly Danny couldn’t fully deny that theory, and had his arms wrapped around Danny’s legs.

“No!”  Danny yelled as he briefly struggled to fight Steve off.  Steve only laughed.  “Don’t you dare, McGarrett!”  Danny had a quick look back towards shore, where half of HPD and the rest of Five-0 were watching as Steve successfully and gleefully pulled Danny into the water.  He hit with a splash and he knew.  

He knew that he was going to commit homicide today.

Steve, of course, was laughing and had his hands extended high above the water in celebration when Danny regained his grasp on the tricky combination that was gravity meets buoyancy.  Danny splashed the biggest splash he could muster in Steve’s general direction.

“I hate you.  This is so unprofessional.”

Danny was met with a splash of water in his face.  Soon it dissolved into a massive water fight and limbs were flying and as good a swimmer as Danny was, he wasn’t a SEAL, and he could only fight with a SEAL while treading water for so long.  He admitted defeat, grabbing onto Steve’s shoulder.

If he had pulled him into the water, the least he could do was keep him from drowning.

“You needed this, Danno,” Danny looked to him, and found him suddenly closer than he was expecting.  A arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up, their faces close.  Steve was right.  This case was long and hard and dark and about twelve kinds of evil piled together and the splash in the water was a nice first step to putting it behind him.  The dark lines that had made their home around Steve’s eyes the last few days were lighter, relaxed.  Danny wasn’t the only one that needed to put it behind him.

This kiss after that was nice second step.  Simple, sweet, Danny’s free arm going around to settle on Steve’s neck in the warm water, low and behind the deck, where no one from shore could see them.

“This mean you’re doing my paperwork?” Steve asked, his annoying smirk growing against Danny’s mouth.

Danny pulled back with a dirty face, grabbed the top of his head, and dunked him.

~~~

> Of course, they never kissed in the water that day, even though Steve had pulled him into the ocean with him.  Or in the gym, even though they had been there together, late into the night.  Or in the elevator.  Or at the party, or when they painted Charlie’s room, or that day of the storm when Danny let himself go to town with his overactive, unstimulated imagination while he was sitting in traffic.  Or the dozen other moments that Danny let his mind and libido get away from him.
> 
> Little moments in his life, moments he’d be alone with Steve, or close with Steve, or the light would catch Steve’s eyes just right, and his imagination would have Steve’s mouth on his neck, the ghost of him from that back alley haunting him every time he was a few feet away from his best friend.

> Not even the soft, sweet pecks he had grown fond of thinking about were real.  Not a goddamn one of them.

> Except the few moments, the short moments, spent behind that dirty dumpster.

~~~

Danny needed to focus on the dumpster.  No wait.  Not dumpster.  Victim.  He needed to focus on the victim.  Thirties, female, single gunshot wound, no signs of a mugging, but signs of a struggle, possible sexual assault.  Victim.  Someone who counted on him to have to tell her final story.  Justice found.

But the alley she laid in had a dumpster quite a bit like the one from that first night, and Danny couldn’t concentrate.

“You okay, buddy?” Steve asked him.

Danny looked up, willing himself to not see Steve’s hair messed up from Danny’s insistent hands, holding him to his neck, while bad guys did their business.

“Yeah, babe,” Danny lied.  “I’m good.”

Victim.  She’s the important one here.  All other personal problems needed to be in second place.

~~~

> He really needed to get a grip on this problem.  Because when he wasn’t actively working on a case, or clawing the walls about Charlie and Rachel, or dealing with the fact Grace had someone in her phone called “BAE” and he had to look up what that meant, what the hell, his mind was on Steve.  

> Grace had even shown up in his little fantasies!  That’s how he knew he was screwed.  Little domestic settings he dreamed about --

~~~

“Uncle Steve!” Grace whined.  “Do you <i>have</i> to do that here?”

Steve looked up from cleaning his hunting rifle, spread out and intimidating over Danny’s living room coffee table, with an all too innocent look on his face.  “Where else would I do it, Gracie?”

She huffed, and turned back into her room.

Danny and Steve shared a small laugh.

“Maybe I should go get my work gun, join ya’,” Danny said.

“Yeah!” Steve said, way too excited.

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang and Grace came out of her room, still huffy.  She was dressed up, a cute little summer dress, her hair done in a nifty little braid that wrapped around her head.  Danny had caught her watching a youtube video on how to do it _six times_ yesterday alone.  

“You guys are going to scare him!” She told him, as she saw that Danny had his own gun out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, monkey,” Danny said, already going to the door ahead of her, much to her chagrin.  She made an aborted move to stamp her foot and Danny watched as Steve fought back a laugh.  “Everything you’ve told me, he sounds like a nice young man.”

Grace rolled her eyes.  Danny stalled, hand on the doorknob.

“He is a nice young man, isn’t he?”

“Yes!”  Grace said.  “We’re not going to be alone!  For the thousandth time!  Hannah’s mom is even going!”

“Still,” Danny said.

“Danno!”  She said again.

He took pity on her then, swinging the door open quickly, trying to look as intimidating as possible.  A small flurry of satisfaction ran through him the moment the boy saw him.  Poor kid froze still.  Danny said nothing.  

“Hey Apane!” Grace greeted from behind Danny.  “Don’t mind him.”

“Hey G,” He said back.  Danny’s jaw tightened.  Her name was Grace.  She smacked Danny’s arm and he took a step back, letting Apane step into the doorway a bit.

It was at this moment (the moment Danny was sure Steve had been waiting all night for) that Steve locked his handgun back together, pulled back the chamber, and looked up at Apane with the same intensity that he’d give any suspect in their interrogation room.

From behind Grace and Apane, Danny almost lost it.  He saw Steve’s eyes flicker up to him, a bit of mischief in them, and then back to Apane.  “Hey kid.”

“Uh,” Apane responded.  

“Oh my god!” Exclaimed Grace, she moved to grab Apane’s arm and go out the door.  “Ignore him too."

“Who is he?” Apane asked.

“He’s...” Grace stalled, looking over at Steve, and then back up to Danny, a small moment of confusion written all over her face.  She sighed.  “Someone you don’t need to worry about right now.”

Steve took that moment to sniff, stand, and give Apane a once over.  The poor boy gulped.  Danny and Steve shared a look just shy of a smirk.

“Wow,” Grace told him, pushing at Apane a bit.  “Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Danny said, hand on Grace’s shoulder.  “I believe we need to go over some rules,” Danny said, a deeper voice than he was comfortable with, but he knew made people shorter than him nervous.  He probably only had a year or two before Grace’s dates were actually taller than him.  He needed the practice while he still could.

Apane turned back to him, eyes glancing to Steve.  “Of course, sir.”

Danny eyed him.  “I wasn’t talking to you, but you could probably stand to hear them.”  He turned to Grace.  “What time are you home?”

“Nine thirty,” She said with a huff.

“What happens if you change the plan you’ve already discussed with me?”

“I call or text to let you know.”

“What happens if something bad happens?”

“Call 911, tell them I’m your daughter.”

“What happens if something bad happens to you?” Steve asked.  Danny looked up, he didn’t have that one planned.

“SEAL team four will reign fiery hell down on what or whomever was responsible,” She said, looking up at him with a grin.  For the first time answering all the questions, it wasn’t monotone embarrassment, but instead a kind of sweet inside joke.  Steve smirked at her, and his face fell to what was totally, one hundred percent Steve’s SEAL face, as he fitted his eyes back to Apane.

Danny leaned down towards Apane.  “Her Uncle Steve is a Navy SEAL.  He could do it.”  Steve nodded.  Apane turned to look at him, a bit pale, and then to Grace who only rolled her eyes again.  

“Are you going to be like this to everyone I ever date in my entire life?” She asked, looking back and forth between Steve and Danny.

“What are you talking about?” Danny asked.  “You think this is weird behavior?”  Grace gave him a face that clearly said ‘duh.’  “Nah, this is normal.”

“We track down terrorists, remember,” Steve said, crossing his arms, handgun still in his hand.  “Mob bosses.  War lords.”

“Serial killers,” Danny added, eyes on Apane.  The boy had the good manners to gulp again.

Grace rolled her eyes again.  “Oh my god.  We’re going now!  Bye Uncle Steve!”  Then Grace said something that actually made Danny smile.  “Bye Danno!”  

She pushed her boyfriend out the door and Danny watched as the two of them got into an SUV, Danny waving at Hannah’s mom.  Steve stepped into the doorway next to him, arms still crossed and SEAL face on, and poor Apane jumped a bit when he looked back at the house.  Danny closed the door as they pulled away.

The moment the door was latched, they were laughing and high fiving, and Danny had his arms around Steve in a celebratory hug.

“That was amazing!” Danny said.  “I have had nightmares about that moment for over a decade. That was a thing of beauty!”

Steve was smiling, “I never got to do it for Mary.  And it’s Grace.”

Danny laughed again.  Then Steve kissed him, short, sweet, to the point.  

“Are you ready for a beer yet?” He asked when he pulled away, like it was nothing.

“Oh dear lord, yes!” Danny told him, already trying to shake the daydream out of the moment.

~~~

> \-- like they were just as wanted as any other dirty fantasy Danny’s mind could dream up.  Sometimes they were simple.

~~~

“Two number sevens, one with a lemonade and the other with a,” Steve pulled back from the window to look at Danny.  

“Lemonade’s fine,” He shrugged.

“Another lemonade!” He repeated.  The man behind the little box repeated the order, gave them their order, and they pulled forward.  

“What if I didn’t want a number seven?” Danny mused.

“Did you not want a number seven?” Steve asked.

“No,” Danny asked.  “Would it hurt ya’ to ask?”

“What’s the problem?  You always get a number seven at Moco’s at lunch when you haven’t had beef for a few days.”

Danny looked at him.  “How do you know I haven’t had beef for a few days?”

Steve rolled his head to look at him with the most ridiculous face Danny had ever seen.  That’s a lie, he’d seen it many times and often on the man that had ordered for him, like it was nothing.

“That’s disturbing.”

“Why is that disturbing?  We have spent every meal for last four days together because of this case.  Before that, you had to watch your diet for the procedure for three days.  On your days off when you don’t have Grace, you eat nothing but grilled cheese and that gross box food you put in a microwave that you think is food.  Of course I know what you’ve eaten.  I pay attention.”

“Putting aside that TV dinners are perfectly acceptable food, and I’m going to go ahead and ignore that judgment from a man that still eats military rations and microwaves omelets, because what I want to talk about is how you don’t seem to pay attention when I express discomfort over you just… deciding what I’m going to eat.”

“Are you going to bring up the ‘relationship dominance’ thing again?”

“Now that you bring it up-” Steve rolled his eyes and let his head fall forward.  “This was a perfect, classic example of relationship dominance, yes.  Very good, Steven.  The lady will be very happy to hear that you are starting to understand patterns!”

“Oh my god,” Steve said, not raising his head.

The line moved, but Steve was not aware.  

“Hey,” Danny smacked him, letting his hand rest on his shoulders.  Steve reached up and grabbed his hand, fingers curving around the back of Danny’s palm.  Danny closed his fingers around Steve’s on instinct, and Steve held them close to his shoulder.

Danny’s eyes were on their hands, and swallowed hard, the temperature in the car raising two degrees, at least.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, sounding seriously sincere.

Danny nodded, then he motioned to the line, and Steve dropped his hand to control the wheel.  He spent the rest of that lunch trying not to think about holding Steve’s hand, and how his hand burned where Steve's was.

Besides, Steve started going on about how military rations were the perfect food source, and Danny could not just sit back and let that particular opinion slide.

~~~

> Other times they were so incredibly R-rated that Danny had to excuse himself and do something about it.

~~~

“Jets.”

“Redskins.”

“Babe, don’t hurt me, we’ve been through this.”

“I know, and one day you’ll see the error of your ways.”

They were sitting on the couch, some innocuous Tuesday watching sports center, and Steve suddenly leaned over, a leg on either side of Danny’s, and Steve lowered his mouth to just below Danny’s jaw, right where it’s perfect and wonderful, and well.  You know how often Danny daydreams about Steve’s mouth on that spot.

“Am I going to have to kiss submission out of you?”

Danny blinked, smirked up at the man, and flipped their positions.  He had been pushed against too many walls in too many fantasies.  He had enough.  Steve certainly didn’t seem to mind the change, his hands already running up Danny’s shirt.

“Something tells me I’m not the submissive one in this particular type of setting.”  Steve gulped and while it may not be true, a flicker of excitement ran through Danny knowing that Steve wasn’t fighting him on this.  Danny ran his hand down his chest, pulling down at the collar of Steve’s simple white t-shirt and kissed at the dip where his collar bones met.  Steve let his head fall back with a groan, a glorious, happy groan, and Danny’s hands went to Steve’s belt again and pulled at the stupid thing.  He watched Steve’s face fall apart as he slid a hand between his boxers and the opening in his pants, a hand full of hard muscle.  Steve raised his head back up, and attacked Danny’s mouth.

Taking advantage of Steve not leaning against the couch, he got rid of Steve’s shirt, and if he could drink in Steve’s chest, he would, without hesitation.  Until then, he had to make do with sloppy, open mouth kisses, everywhere his mouth could reach.  He let out little, happy moans every time he found a new patch of skin to kiss.

“What do you need, Danny?” Steve asked, voice husky and wrecked, one hand messing up his hair, the other holding Danny’s wrist, fearful he’ll move it from where Steve was trying not to push up into it, and failing.

“I need…” Danny started, breathing heavy, everything he needed underneath him, and growing harder in his hand, and open and compliant.  “I need...”

“You need what?” Steve asked, looking over, his beer halfway to his mouth.  Danny blinked.  They were sitting on the couch, some innocuous Tuesday watching sports center, and they were a cushion apart and Danny’s eyes shot back to the television.  What had they been talking about?

“I need… the bathroom,” He fibbed.  Then he made a groan as he stood up, a tightness in his pants he should have expected, and he doubled over a bit.  “Lunch isn’t sitting right.”

“Oh,” Steve said, still concerned.  “I had the same thing you did!  I hope that doesn’t come back to bite me.”

“It’s your driving that does it,” Danny said, already walking out of the room.  “Upsets a delicate balance that my body maintains.” He was already wincing at the choice of words he used.

“Right,” Steve laughed, raising his voice after him.  “You.  Delicate.  That’s what you are.”

“Shut up!” Danny yelled back into the house as he shut the door to the bathroom, stared down at his pants, and willed the inconvenience away with a steady string of baseball stats.  Steve laughing at him, his face wide with a smile, did not help him one bit.

~~~

> Then there were the real moments between them.

~~~

It was the anniversary and Steve knew it.  He was the only other person that knew the real date.  Had read the forensics report, had understood what “rate of decay” meant.  Beers and quiet companionship had shown up just after dark and Danny recognized what it was because Danny had done it for Steve for the last five years.  Like clockwork.  Vicious, angry, painful clockwork.

They watched a game that Danny didn’t follow and they threw together some kind of food Danny didn’t really taste as he ate it and they did not talk about Matty, dead months before Danny even knew he was in trouble.  They didn’t say a single word.  This quiet solidarity was moving and Danny didn’t know if he had the words to even begin to tell Steve how grateful he was here tonight.

About halfway through clean up from dinner Danny lost his resolve a little bit.  He was thinking about how he did this for Steve every year on the day his father died, how it was inspired by Matty’s show of beers and baseball during his divorce.  How they wouldn’t talk for hours.  How Danny would just be there, completely unsure if that was what Steve needed or not.  Always wondering if they should go out and do something.  A hike or night surfing or a thousand other things that seemed more Steve’s style.  

How he had missed it with Steve last year, because of all of this mess.

But here Steve was.  Doing it for him.

Suddenly it hit him that his unsure efforts in the past had made a difference to Steve, because Steve being here, tonight, meant the world to him.

Steve noticed him wiping at his eye and Danny shook him off the first time, but the second time Danny dropped the dishpan into the sink, the water still running, to look Steve straight in the eye.

They said nothing, sharing enough already, and Steve nodded.

Later they were sitting on the couch and Danny had leaned on Steve, and that turned to snuggling, and falling asleep on a warm, solid chest that smelled like salt water and bulk laundry softener, and in the morning Steve was gone. This left Danny wondering how he could fantasize something so ridiculously non-sexual and so ridiculously domestic after what Steve had done.  He pushed at the blanket that Steve must have covered him with, and got up to go to work.

~~~

> The moments he needed Best Friend Steve --

~~~

Adam had bought a fireworks permit and he and Kono had invited everyone to dinner and fireworks from their backyard for Fourth of July and Grace and Sam were trying to get Nahele and Logan and Charlie all to play with sparklers.  Charlie was still unsure about his new father’s little family.  This was really the first big event with everyone.  He was smiling and happy and Grace was about eighty percent the reason why.

Grace was perfect.

He couldn’t help the worry that festered inside him as he watched Charlie hesitantly take a sparkler from Kono.  They were still a few weeks out from Charlie’s latest batch of test results and they wouldn’t know anything for sure until summer was over.

His mind was stuck on one simple little phrase.  

 _“It’s a good thing she’s a girl, girls are stronger.”_  

It had been a nurse, back when Grace was born, way too early and way too small.  There was a brief two day period where everyone was, maybe not expecting the worst, but everyone was certainly worried, and the nurse had told him that.  Rachel was asleep and Grace was in her little bubble box, and he just couldn’t take his eyes off her.  The nurse stepped in, checking his daughter’s vitals, and tried to calm his worry with a few calm words.  He doubted it was true, really.  Probably something she said to all the worried parents in this place awake late into the night.  But it still ate at him, every test Charlie had, every procedure Danny went through, like a mosquito who thought he was just too sweet to give up.

“You should go play with them, Danno,” Came Steve’s voice, behind him and close to his ear.  He had stayed back in the shadows of the lanai, watching everyone in the yard, but somehow Steve had still found him.  He closed his eyes and fought the urge to lean back to what he knew would be Steve’s chest.

His eyes watered.  “I don’t think-” He started to confess, barely a whisper.  He had been terrified to put words to his fear.  

That Charlie wouldn’t…

That they’d get bad…

That this was his last…  

That he’d never get to grow…  

“How do I do this?” He settled on instead.

Steve’s hands were anchors on his waist and the urge to lean back into the man had never been stronger.  He turned instead, leaning against the lanai railing, crossing his arms, and glancing up at Steve before turning his focus back on his children.  His friend moved to lean against the railing with him.

“The way you always have,” Steve said simply.

Danny scoffed.  “How’s that?”

“With an ocean of love for your kids and a fist for anyone or anything that doesn’t have their best interests at heart.”

“And if my fists aren’t enough?”

Steve’s jaw tightened.  “You got mine too.  Like you always have.”

Danny’s face broke for only a moment before he caught himself.  Steve made some kind of aborted move towards him, but settled back down against the rail.  Oh, how Danny wanted Steve to reach out, to take him in his arms, and hold him.  Steve hugged like he never wanted to let go.  He needed it so bad, wanted it even, craved it.  On another day, he’d let himself daydream about it.

But this was reality.  He had a sick son, a new level of anger for his ex-wife, a wonderful daughter that didn’t deserve any of this heartache, and a pointless crush on his best friend.

~~~

> \-- and not some dirty little secret fantasy version of Steve his stupid touch deprived mind came up with.  

~~~

Steve smirked at him, and suddenly they were alone.  Steve slauntered over to Danny, still in his chair at his desk, and Danny pushed away a bit, letting his legs fall open, and Steve’s smirk turned to a smile as he fell to his knees.

Danny’s head fell back at the very intense imagination of Steve’s lips mouthing at his dick through his pants, before he realized it wasn’t real, and Lou and Kono were also in the room, and wow that was really inappropriate.  He shook himself and coughed.

Lou was shaking his head, staring at Steve.  Kono looked like she was doing her very hardest not to say something, and Danny was certain that she was.  

Danny couldn’t look anyone that was in that room in the eye for hours.

~~~

>  His crush on Steve would show up during these small, meaningless, important, life-changing moments and just… make Danny hate himself for cheapening what they actually had.

~~~

Another day, another procedure.  This would be the third of three bone marrow extractions, and Danny hoped and prayed to Gods he wasn’t sure he believed in that they’d work.  Steve had been with him through every procedure.  It was always the same.  Three day strict diet of pretty much just liquids, Danny’s procedure in the morning, Charlie’s in the evening, they would both be held overnight for observation, especially Charlie - but they had learned the first time that he was scared and felt better with Danny there, so of course Danny stayed, same room, another bed just like Charlie’s.

So had Steve also stayed.  He and Charlie had really bonded, apparently, during Danny’s procedures.  Charlie would be nervous and hungry and Steve would distract him with tales about a Superhero Team of men that were totally actually SEAL stories and Charlie ate them up, asking Steve for more, later on during the day, after they were both free of grogginess and anesthesia.

(Grace ate them up too, during this time, asking if there were any lady superheroes on this team.  Steve had told her, “not really, it was still against the rules, but they had lady superheroes that gave them support from time to time.”  Grace had only said “they don’t have ladies on the team yet,” with so much confidence that it worried Danny, and made a spark twinkle in Steve’s eyes that worried Danny so much more.)

“Were you on this Superhero Team, Uncle Steve?” Charlie asked that evening.  Everything had been textbook, they were told.  Charlie was doing great, and he had slept most of the evening and he needed to be awake for a couple tests later.

Steve paused at what had to be the first time Charlie had called him ‘Uncle Steve.’

“Uh,” He stammered for a moment.  “I was.  There’s a new roster now.  But yes, I was.”

“Cool,” Charlie said.  Then he turned to Danny.  “What about you?”

“No,” Danny said a bit sadly, hated how he wasn’t everything to this boy.  “Never was.”

“Nah,” Steve said with a deep smile.  “He’s on a different team of superheroes.”  Charlie’s eyes went wide and he looked to Danny.  Rachel chuckled from the other side of Charlie’s bed.  

“Really?” He asked her.

She gave a thoughtful face.  “You’ll have to ask your Uncle Steve if you want to know more, I’m afraid.”

Charlie immediately turned to Steve.  

The smile on Steve’s face was so damn wide that Danny’s whole body was engulfed in flames.  His crush on him had reached a new level, he had no idea how that was possible.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve told Charlie, leaning forward over Danny’s bed, ready to drop some wisdom.  “We’re based here on Oahu,” He whispered, like he was telling Charlie a secret.  “Your dad is the smartest one of us all.”

“Don’t tell your aunt Kono that,” Danny told him.  The adults snickered.

Charlie smiled and focused again on Steve.  “Like the Iron Man of the team?”

Rachel chuckled again.  Grace stirred in her sleep with her in her lap.  That was a relief that Danny hadn’t let himself postpone the worry about.  When Grace learned the truth about her brother, how he was her full brother, just after school got out for the summer, Grace was not a happy camper.  She was angry at her mother for lying (and Danny had worked really hard not to agree with her flat out) and she refused to talk to Rachel.  Rachel suggested that she spend the summer with Danny, let her cool off and work through things.  Danny agreed, of course, but he knew how much Rachel adored her.  

He felt that same adoration everyday too.  A constant hum of love and devotion that never went away.  

Not being able to see Grace everyday was hard, so he knew how hard it had to have been for Rachel these last few months, after a constant stream of Grace for the last thirteen years.

“Exactly like Iron Man, except he doesn’t go into battle covered in so much armor.  He’s stronger and braver than that.”  Charlie peaked at Danny, cute little smile digging dimples into his cheeks, then straight back to listening to Steve.  Speaking of hums that never went away, Danny was happy to feel a hum around Charlie, a different octave from Grace, sure, but still there and just as strong.  He was worried when he first learned the truth about his son, that he wouldn't feel it.  He didn't know how he could ever think that, now, Charlie's eyes excited under a fringe of blond hair.  “We are all safer when he’s working, so we work super hard to make sure he’s safe.”

“Do you think his bone marrow will turn me into a super strong superhero too, so I can stop being sick?”

Everyone stilled.

Rachel recovered first.  “Exactly, honey.”

“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Danny told him, trying to hold a strong face.  He shared a look with Rachel, and saw that she was very much in the same boat as him.  One look at Steve and… oh.

He had his head bowed, and Danny saw pressure was running into his head, like he was holding his breath.  Danny reached out and rested a hand on the back of his neck.  Steve sniffed and looked up at him, overwhelmed and trying to hide it.  He smiled at Danny, a deep breath, in a look that Danny had seen before.  His support face.  His “I might not be able to fix this, but I can put duct tape on it” face.  The face he wore in moments where everything was falling apart and he was trying to hold it together because other people needed him to be solid and nothing less.

Danny didn’t move his hand, only tightened it, and he watched as Steve closed his eyes at the pressure.

He looked over to Charlie, and then Grace, and he caught Rachel’s curious look, before he shook it off as shock at seeing a man like Steve have an emotional moment.  It’s a bit jarring if you don’t know him.

Danny looked back down at him with fondness.  Steve finally opened his eyes, and smiled.

The flames grew again.  Danny had reached another level of crush on the man.  How was this possible?  He was going to burn out into nothing before this crush was done with him.

~~~

> Danny had written off this stupid crush as stress and loneliness and fear of the unknown.  A crush born out of not having anyone else to think about or dote on except his perfect children.  Steve would do something completely ridiculous, like make a goofy face about something he ate --

~~~

His parents had actually taken a weekend to come visit.  He was certain the world was ending.  But Lizzie had told him that dad had vowed to travel more, and Abbie had said that they were more protective since Matty, and the one year anniversary for them was coming up, and everything with Charlie… it made sense.

Danny didn’t care why they were here, really, just that they were here and smiling in a way he was worried he wouldn’t see again after last fall, and they were meeting Charlie for the first time, and Charlie had wanted Steve there, nervous to meet his grandparents, and really it was a good weekend.

And then his mother made lasagna.

Steve was in absolute heaven over it and making sounds that Danny had only really ever fantasized about and while a huge (growing, the part of his brain that was still twelve supplied) part of him was enjoying the display, and another huge part of him was warming to the way Steve just slipped in to family dinner like he was supposed to be there, there was another, hesitant part of him that needed Steve to stop right now, immediately.  His dad was _right.  There._ Oh my god. 

Focus on anything else, Daniel.

Grace was giggling, and Charlie was sitting on his ma’s lap like she had been his grandma all along, and his dad was patting him on the back like he was proud of him, so he didn’t really want it to stop.  He was pretty content.

Steve took another bite, some tomato sauce dribbling down his chin, and he made another goofy face.  

Danny reached forward with a napkin to wipe his face, “You animal,” He said fondly.  “This is my mother’s cooking, it’s sacred, and you need to treat it that way.”

Steve glanced at him, but otherwise ignored him, taking another messy bite in his direction.  Both Clara and Charlie laughed at him.  Danny ignored Steve’s smug smile to begin tearing the crusts off his garlic bread.

He really didn’t need his stupid crush flaring up and ruining how wonderful this weekend had been.

“Clara,” Steve said with a full mouth.  “Will you teach me how to make this?”

“I think we could figure something out,” She said sweetly.  “Although it is a family recipe,” She said, with a pointed look to Danny and Danny choked on some garlic bread and later when he walked Steve outside to thank him for helping Charlie feel more comfortable, Steve had grabbed a handful of his shirt and kissed him.  Right there in his driveway, for his whole neighborhood to see, where his parents could easily look outside and see them.

When he pulled back, Danny wasn’t done, and rushed forward to kiss him.  They stood there for more than a few moments, embraced like that.  No rush, no flash fire, just a slow and steady burn that kept them both warm.

Then Danny blinked and he was back inside and his parents were giving him a fond little, disappointed look, and he knew that he had walked back in the house in the middle of his daydream and his crush was out of the bag.

~~~

> \-- or something unnecessarily sweet and gooey, like throw a party for Nahele actually getting a real driver’s license --

~~~

It was simple.  Steaks and sodas and a pickup football game on the beach behind Steve’s house, (and a cake in the shape of a car, but that was for later) but pretty much everyone had shown up anyway.  Kamekona brought shrimp and fried it and the whole back smelled wonderful.  Nahele was overwhelmed, but excited.  He obviously hadn’t been shown this kind of support, or even this kind of attention, in too long a time.  As much as Danny hated that old car in Steve’s garage, and how much pain and guilt it would cause Steve every time it fell apart, he was happy the kid had stolen it.

At least, for the own kid’s sake.  He was the nicest, sweetest, most thoughtful kid with a driver’s license Danny had ever met.  All the bad things that had happened to him?  It just wasn’t fair.  He needed support and guidance and love and he really had that here, with them.

He was also maybe flirting with Samantha Grover?  That was not going to end well.  He needed to find Steve and warn him about his pseudo-kid’s bad decisions pronto.  Chin saw it and he and Danny shared a look.  Chin made a face like “it’s the kid’s funeral” and thoughts went back to the night Apane had picked up Grace and how Steve made that experience so much better.

He wondered, briefly, if Nahele and Sam were to ever go on a date, who he would be standing behind come time for the date to begin, Steve or Lou.

Danny watched as Nahele ducked his head and his whole face turned red.  Sam had leaned forward, biting her bottom lip, probably asking him if he could take her for a drive sometime.  She had come a long way from her bad experience two years ago, Danny was glad to see, another side effect of a group like theirs.  Lou, as much as he hated his little girl flirting with boys who could drive, seemed to be glad for it too.

Besides, it’s not like Steve and Lou weren’t both intimidating all by their lonesomes.  Danny decided right then, he was going to be these two kid’s fun uncle.  The one that would show up to help change a tire when they weren’t supposed to be out after dark, or pick them up at a party they were too in over their heads to be at.   Yeah, he could do that.  He figured Kono could be the cool aunt and he could be the fun uncle.  

Later, though, he had a sudden change of heart about that and his role in Nahele’s life.  Visions of graduation gowns and prom suit shopping and helping him haggle down the price of some old beat up car flashed through his mind.  Moments of fatherly guidance he would sometime picture with Grace and Charlie in the daydream.  Family photos on a mantelpiece that no one had a need for in Hawai’i, but maybe his mother’s back in Jersey, next to Sarah and Eddie, and Lizzie and her husband and kids, and that ridiculous picture of Matty - the one of him in that silly hat and horrendous tie.

A picture of two proud men and three happy kids, all smiling and standing on a very familiar beach with the sunset in the background.

All it took to instigate this change was Steve sitting next to him, handing him a cold beer, then settling back to watch Kono and Grace dominate the game of football, and asking, “What do you think about me maybe becoming a foster father?”

~~~

> \-- or a goofy face to make Joan smile --

~~~

“I can do this, ya’ know,” Grace said, very seriously, hands on her hips.  “I am thirteen.”

“I have no doubts in you,” Steve said seriously.  “I just want to make sure you’ve got all your weak points covered.  I don’t want to leave a man open to attack in the field.”

Danny narrowed his eyes at the military terminology.  It was official.  Steve was in the early stages of recruiting his daughter into the Navy.

Grace nodded, like she understood the seriousness of what Steve was trying to do.  “Nahele’ll be out in the garage in a few hours, Chin’s not on duty today, you guys aren’t going to be more than a half hour away at any point today, and it’s not even dark out.”  She told him, motioning towards a window with wild hands that was all Danny.  “Diapers are in the bag but we’re trying for potty training, she likes p-b-and-j’s, her favorite movie is already in the DVD player, and she needs to be down for a nap by no later than three thirty.  You guys will be back before dinner.  Really, Uncle Steve.  Go find Aunt Mary an apartment.  I’ve got this.”

Steve looked over at Mary for final approval.  

Mary had an aura of mock judgment as she looked over Grace, even though they all knew what the answer was going to be.  Danny’s heart soared when Grace stood her ground.  Mary finally nodded.  “I think she deserves a trial run.  Just don’t go in the ocean, okay?”  

Grace broke out in a smile and nodded.

“Alright,” Steve said, standing.  Then he turned around with a pointed finger.  “No raves.”

“Aww, darn,” Grace said with a smirk.  “Better cancel the band.”  

Danny laughed despite himself, was glad to see that Mary was laughing too.  Steve, however, had a bit of a scowl, and shared it with Joan, who was giggling, even if she didn’t understand what was funny.  

She stopped.  “Again!”  She demanded.

Steve puffed up his cheeks and zeroed in on her nose with his own, and she broke out into another string of giggles.  He looked so pleased at the result that Danny felt himself falling just a little bit more for him.  There was an errant thought, about a small little person, small and safe in Steve’s arms and Danny shook himself before his stupid little crush took that thought any further.  

He let out a long sigh.  Mary looked over at him with a question on her face that Danny didn’t really feel like answering. 

“Sounds like you are ready to go!” Danny held out an arm to his daughter with more than a little pride, and she leaned into it with a smile.  

“Are you ready to hang out with cousin Grace, Joanie?” Grace asked, reaching for the toddler.  The little girl had always liked Grace.  She went with a happy babble.  Danny forced himself not to look at Steve’s face or else the thoughts would turn sappy and ridiculous and dangerous.

“Alright, the babysitter now has command of the premises,” Steve said.  Grace nodded.  Danny swore she would have saluted if she didn’t have arms full of three year old.

“What are you doing to my daughter, McGarrett?  Turning her into a sailor?” He burst.  “She’s thirteen!”

Steve looked over at him, his face way too innocent, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Then he glanced over at Grace and winked.  She raised her eyebrows at him in understanding.

“No, stop it!”

They only laughed at him.

“Don’t fight it, Danny,” Mary told him.  “The military runs in families.”

He looked up suddenly at that, all the sudden feeling claustrophobic, a chorus of hums broke out in his ears, blocking out all sound.  The world got a bit numb as he watched Steve make another face at Joan, and give a mock salute to Grace, and herded the adults out the door.

~~~

> \-- and Danny would melt.  

~~~

“Back to school pancakes?” Steve asked, a bit frazzled.

“Yes, back to school pancakes,” Grace told him.  “It’s tradition.”

His house was finally getting some serious floor repairs from the flooding, so Steve was couch surfing again to get out of the way for a few days, and it just so happened to fall on the perfect storm that was Back To School Shopping, actually Back To School, Annual Evaluations at work, a mandatory business retreat of Rachel’s, and, of course, the worst flu Danny had ever had.  Maybe.  Top three, at least.  

Steve, bless his heart, had stepped up to the plate determined to hit a home run.  He had taken Grace shopping for supplies and clothes and new school uniform essentials, since she was going to be at the intermediate high school this year.  He got Charlie to his check up and to his flu shot.  He re-enrolled Charlie in his daycare, the one that was dedicated to children with unique needs, which Danny wasn’t even aware was coming up.  And when Charlie was home, he kept him occupied and away from Danny, he was - at all cost - not to catch Danny’s flu.  He couldn’t afford it at this point in his treatment.

He had scheduled Danny’s evaluation for him, then rescheduled, and then rescheduled a third time, and then went down to the office for Danny’s individual evaluation to explain what was happening.  Then he went to their mandatory partner evaluation, got an earful for coming alone, and was sent out with strict orders to come back with Danny or else.

He kept track of Rachel’s flights to help combat Grace’s nerves about that sort of thing, texted her with every update of arrival and departure that Steve could get his hands on.  He had taken Grace to her final Cheer Camp of the summer, came home with confetti in his collar, and a handful of girls all screaming for pizza.  Danny apologized a dozen times through a stuffy nose and a headache that he had forgotten that he told Grace she could have one, last sleepover before school started.  

It rolled right off Steve’s back.  He got them making pizzas instead of ordering them, and they all had a blast curled up together in the living room eating popcorn and watching G.I. Jane.  (A censored version, Steve had it edited for Grace.  That worry that Danny had about that little spark in Steve’s eye was totally warranted, Chin had to believe him now, despite how Mary’s “it runs in families” comment would keep echoing in his head.)

All while Danny was curled over under his comforter and couldn’t keep anything down and ran a three digit fever for five days straight and at some point developed a sinus infection and was completely useless.  Steve brought him sandwiches, and then soup, and then gatorade.  He had gotten Danny to the clinic, and he had picked up his prescriptions, and he had helped Danny in and out of the shower and he had changed his sheets at some point - when? Danny couldn’t tell.

The man deserved good things in life.  The Grand Slam he had pulled off totally proved that.

He was sitting on the side of the bed at one point, waiting on the thermometer, or for Danny to finish his glass of water, or something, Danny was unsure.  But he was sitting on the bed, and checking on him, and while he was sure that Steve had called in reinforcements from the rest of Five-0, Danny was so very glad that he was there.

He tried to tell him.  He didn’t know what came out, only that Steve ran a soft hand through the damp hair on the side of his head and smiled at him with the fondest look he’d ever seen.  If he hadn’t been sick, he was certain Steve would have leaned down to kiss him.

Or maybe he wasn’t certain, the way he’d been prone to daydreaming this summer.  

But anyway.  Back to school pancakes.

“It’s tradition.”

Steve looked to Danny, who was finally well enough to not be contagious and to get up and out of bed enough to eat and maybe go to in for an evaluation so he could keep his job then come home and sleep, who nodded seriously.  “She’s right.  It is.”

“Pancakes are needed then!” Steve said seriously, and then he was on a mission from the head of the Navy himself, and Danny watched as this goofy man fed his children, packed their lunches, called Nahele to make sure he was up and going for school too, not trusting his current foster family, piled them all in the car, dropped them off at their respective schools, and pulled into the palace parking lot for Danny’s meeting with a large, tired sigh...  All with pancake batter smeared across his face.

Danny knew he didn’t have a fever anymore, but he also knew the warmth that had burned bright and settled and found home just under his skin, the warm little hum that he felt when he looked at his best friend wasn’t from the flu.

~~~

> Thing was, he didn’t really want to do anything about it.  He was fine.  His life was stressful and dramatic and living alongside Steve, he doubted it would be anything but those things, but he didn’t want to change it.  Things were good.

> Why mess that up?

~~~

Steve was smiling.  Everyone was, actually.  Smiling and laughing and enjoying the beautiful evening next to the beach at their regular table at Kamekona’s and celebrating another case where everyone survived and the bad guys were caught and all was well.  But right now, Steve was smiling and he was beautiful.  His eyes were soft and the light was making Steve’s eyes so clear, like the water at the edge of the ocean, and there was laughter bubbling out of Danny like a firework fountain, and it was honestly the easiest thing in the world, leaning over, meeting Steve’s mouth with his own, and kissing him like they had done it a thousand times.

Except, actually, they hadn’t.

Danny’s eyes opened wide.  He felt Steve’s smile fall against mouth, a sharp intake of breath from the both of them, and they pulled back simultaneously with shocked faces.

Everyone around them was silent and still.

“Wha-uh,” Danny said smartly.

“Ye- um,” Steve responded smoothly.

They were both trying hard not to look at each other’s mouths and failing.

No one else had moved.  Danny really needed someone to move, because he was sure that he was never going to move again, ever, really, sorry Grace, you’ll have to find someone else to walk you down the aisle kind of “ever” because he has been mortified to stone, and really this was Steve’s fault.  Most things in Danny’s life were.

“Um,” Steve said again.

“Uh,” Danny agreed.

“What the fuck?” Kono asked, a little too excited.  Then she squeaked a bit.  “Sorry Grace.  Hell.  What the hell?”

“Has it been real the whole time?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing towards Danny.

“What?” Danny asked, stomach dropping.

~~~

> ...so as it turns out, a few of those fantasies were actually real.  

> Danny didn’t know if that made him feel better or not.  Did that mean they had a shared madness?  How much did they collectively write off as fantasy, and how much had they actually been together before they realized that they were together?  This was worrisome.  They should talk to someone about this.

> When he told Steve all of this, the man rolled over in bed with a wide smile on his face, settled a leg between one of Danny’s, ran a hand flat against Danny’s stomach before curling it around him, kissed the tip of his nose, the jut of his chin, and then softly on his mouth.

> “This is real, that’s what matters.”

> Danny agreed.  But he wasn’t ready to concede his point.  Maybe ever.  For the rest of his life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to “Budapest” by George Ezra the ENTIRE time I wrote this, if you care about that sort of thing. This not an exaggeration. That’s about twelve hours of that song on repeat because every damn time I turned another song on, I lost the drive to write this thing and when I turned it back on, it came back! So I think the song deserved a shout out, both in these ending notes, and in the title.
> 
> ...idk if this thing is any good, and idk if what I'm trying to do with it will even get across but, ya know. It's finished. If you got this far and you think it needs any kind of warning tag, please let me know.
> 
> I should also make a note and say that I have only a vague understanding of Charlie's immune disorder. The treatment depicted in this particular fic is fictional.


End file.
